A Diamond in the Rough
by Late For The Sky
Summary: This is a collection of all the stories for my self-imposed fanfic100 challenge focusing on the character of Doctor Kavanagh. Kavanagh/OC est. 'ship in most stories.
1. First Impressions

**Timeline:** ~Early Season 2 of "SG-1".

_Prompt 001: Beginnings_

The sounds of the SGC faded as Nate stepped out of the elevator and made his way towards the Robotics Labs on Level 24, his arms full of paperwork and file folders. As he reached the Robotics Labs, he heard someone swearing vehemently in Greek. He stopped just outside the threshold and looked hesitantly in. A woman was elbow deep in one of the FREDs, her wavy brown hair held back in a ponytail, though a few locks had managed to escape and were falling across her face. Nate stepped silently into the room, setting the folders and paperwork down on one of the few clear spaces he could find on the nearest counter.

'Having problems?' he asked dryly, leaning back against the counter and folding his arms nonchalantly across his chest.

'_Stupid piece of_- What?' She switched back to English as her head snapped up and a pair of eyes the color of aged cognac met his own blue-grey. She looked at him with annoyance, or at least as much annoyance as could be conveyed from behind safety-glasses that magnified her eyes to twice their normal size. Nate smirked, amusement making one corner of his mouth twitch upwards momentarily.

'Who are you?' the woman demanded, attempting to extricate her hands from the innards of the FRED without damaging it or her.

Nate shrugged. 'Doctor Peter Kavanagh.' True enough, since that's what the records said. He'd thought about getting his name legally changed to match the SGC's clerical _faux pas_, but had decided against it. It was one of those things in life, he had decided, that didn't really matter much in the grand scheme of things. The people who truly mattered knew who he really was and that counted for everything in his book. 'And you?' he countered.

'Brooks Rice. Could you hand me that socket wrench over there?' She asked, managing to free one of her hands.

Nate turned and saw the wrench Rice had mentioned. He picked it up and walked the few paces it took to be close enough to hand it to her. 'What's wrong with it?'

'Hell if I know. SG-14 brought it back after their latest mission, saying it had just stopped working just as they were about to send it back through the 'Gate. Good thing they were so close; otherwise I'd have to go off-world.' She told him, taking the socket wrench and turning back to the stricken FRED.

'Oh, and that's a bad thing?'

Rice snorted. 'It is if you've got allergies like mine that don't respond to antihistamines very well.'

'Ah. I see.'

Nate fell silent, content to just watch Rice work. After a few minutes the woman growled softly under her breath and spun around, the socket wrench held loosely in her left hand. 'What're you just standing there for? Don't you have something to do, somewhere to be?'

He shook his head. 'Nope. I'm right where I'm supposed to be. I'm your new assistant until the higher-ups figure out what to do with me.'

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously and then sighed. 'Oh, alright then.' She said finally. 'You can sort out that paperwork you brought with you and then you can start on the cataloging.'

'Cataloging? What sort of cataloging is there to-?'

Rice smiled at him. It was the sort of smile a cat might give a particularly slow and stupid mouse that was, for the moment, too amusing to eat right away.

'Oh, you'll see. You'll see.'

Damn. And here he thought this was going to be _easy_.


	2. Details in the Fabric

**Prompt:** 060: Drink

**Timeline:** Three months after "First Impressions" (Early Season 2 of _SG-1_)  
**Notes:** Nate has been transferred to a different department by now (engineering). Also, he's told Brooks his real name as well, since he's come to trust her. Nothing belongs to me; blah, blah, blah.

Warmth enveloped Nate as he stepped into the slightly smoky interior of Marson's Pub, sending a delightful shiver down his back. Marson's was a favorite of the scientists at the Mountain, and tonight was no different. Nate recognized a few of the engineers sitting at a table near the door, laughing and joking with one another after a hard day's work. He skirted around them and went towards the bar, half-listening to the conversations flowing around him. Just as he was about to place his order, he happened to look to his left and saw Brooks sitting alone at the end of the bar, nursing a glass of wine.

'Hey, Ian, how many drinks has Brooks had tonight?' he asked the bartender, keeping his voice low.

'Hmm? Oh. Um, that's her third in two hours. Why?'

'She's not that much of a drinker.' He said, frowning. 'She told me just last week that one glass is her limit. I'll be right back.' Nate left Ian to fill another customer's order and wandered down to where Brooks was. He watched her for a moment, and then cleared his throat.

'Brooks?' he asked, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. She sighed and then set down her wine glass.

'What do you want, Kavanagh?' she asked, stumbling slightly over the multiple syllables of his last name. Nate's frown deepened. Brooks usually used peoples' first names exclusively, so the use of his last name made Nate worried.

'I just wanted to see if you were okay.' He replied carefully. 'Are you?'

'My day has been shit and you're asking if I'm okay? God, that's a really stupid question, Nate.' Her speech held more than the hint of a Greek accent that it usually did, and her words were slurred slightly.

'I'm sorry. I didn't know. Tell you what, why don't I take you home? You're in no condition to drive, and you look like you're about to fall off that stool.' Nate said, his tone firm and brooking no argument. Brooks glowered at him and then slipped off the bar stool. She nearly fell down, but Nate caught her before she could.

'Right. This proves exactly what I was saying. Come on.' Nate dug a twenty out of his pocket and threw it on the counter to cover Brooks' tab before guiding her out of the bar and towards his car, all thoughts of relaxing with a drink gone. 'How far away is your house?' he asked when they had gotten in the car.

''S on the other side of town.' Brooks said, slouching in her seat. Nate sighed and then shook his head.

'My place is closer. We'll go there.' Nate told her, and started heading towards his apartment. Brooks didn't say much else on the ride, and when they arrived at the apartment complex, she seemed to have fallen asleep. 'Hey, we're here.' Nate said as he pulled the car into his allotted spot. 'I've got a futon you can have, or you can take the bed. Your choice.'

'Mmm?' Brooks muttered, half-opening her eyes. 'Whassat? Where are we?'

'We're at my apartment. Come on, let's go in.' Nate got out and then went around to help Brooks out of the car. She managed to stand up on her own, but he put an arm around her waist, just in case. The scent of her perfume was mixed with the sharper scent of wine, but Nate ignored the wine and focused on the smell of Brooks' perfume. It was nice; something fresh and clean. He returned his attention to the task at hand- mainly, opening the door, and then directed Brooks up the three flights of stairs to his fourth-floor apartment.

Once he got his apartment door open and Brooks in, he followed her and shut the door behind himself. Brooks had wandered over to the shelf where he kept a few pictures of his family, tracing each of their faces carefully.

'They're my parents and brothers.' He said after getting a mug and filling it with water. 'Here, drink this. It'll help lessen the intensity of the effects of the alcohol later on.'

Brooks took the mug and sipped at its contents while Nate directed her to the futon that served as his couch. 'Thanks.' She said quietly once she had sat down.

'Don't worry about it.' Nate replied, taking a seat next to her. 'You would've done the same for me.'

Brooks smiled wanly and then leaned against him, making a softly contented noise. Nate held as still as he could, not daring to breathe. Brooks snuggled up against him, almost nuzzling his shoulder. 'Are you-' Nate began, but Brooks put a finger against his lips.

'Shh.' She murmured, and then gently pulled his head down on a level with her own. Brooks carefully took Nate's glasses from his face and set them on the nearby coffee table next to her mug, not taking her eyes off of him. He watched her carefully, a slight feeling of apprehension mixed with hopefulness stirring within him.

'Brooks?' he breathed, and then shut up when Brooks leaned forwards and kissed him gently. He kissed her back after a moment, one hand cupping the back of her head as he did so. The taste of wine was still on Brooks' lips, and it was a pleasantly sweet tang. She leaned into the kiss, her hands placed flat against his chest with her fingers splayed slightly.

They broke apart after a while, the need for air superseding the desire to continue kissing. Brooks' eyes were half-closed in pleasure, her pupils dark and wide beneath her eyelids.

'What was that for?' Nate asked softly. 'Not that I didn't enjoy it, but still…'

'Because I've been wanting to do that for a long time now.' Brooks replied, snuggling up against him. 'I've just never found the right time, and now seemed as good a time as any.'

'Hmm. Well, I'm glad you did.' He pressed a kiss against the top of her head, enjoying the fresh scent of her shampoo. She sighed and then closed her eyes, one hand curling against his chest. After a while, Nate felt her breathing become regular, signaling the moment that she had fallen asleep. He sighed, and wondered what exactly these new developments might mean, and then decided that he'd worry about it in the morning. He settled back against the back of the futon and shut his eyes, listening to the rhythmic breathing coming from Brooks. Eventually he fell asleep, lulled into comfort by the warmth and weight of the woman by his side.


	3. Meeting the Family

**Prompt: **094: Independence

**Notes: **Set in July of Season 2 of _SG-1_.

The smell of charcoal barbeques and roasting hotdogs filled the air, mixing delightfully with the fresh salty breeze coming off of Puget Sound. Children ran across the large grassy area that was bounded by the parking lot on one side, the sidewalk on another and the fence that separated the Mukilteo City Beach from the train tracks that ran parallel to the sea on a high embankment for a short while before curving away into the distance. Various families were gathered at the plastic picnic tables that sat off the path, the sound of laughter and conversations floating on the breeze. A lighthouse presided over everything, the glass in its tower glinting in the sun.

Down the beach a little ways and slightly separate from the other families was a large gathering of about thirty or so adults, with various children of all ages scattered amongst them. A cardboard sign taped to the end of one table read, in neat handwriting, "Kavanagh Family Fourth of July Celebration! All Welcome." Below this someone else had written, "If you brought drinks and don't want to share, put a label on them! The Management is NOT responsible for moochers." The gathering was spread across four tables, one laden almost entirely with drinks and condiments. A tall man with closely clipped grey hair was manning the largest grill, an apron covering his slightly rotund torso with the words "No, it's _not_ done yet. Try again later" embroidered across the widest part of the cloth. Two younger men, both with similarly short haircuts, were assisting him with the food preparations. There was an air of good-natured teasing between the three men, and it wasn't readily apparent that they hadn't seen each other face-to-face since last Christmas, and even then that was over a group web-cam session.

'I wonder where Nate is,' mused the youngest of the trio, his stocky build denoting the fact that he took after his mother more than his father in that respect. His hazel eyes (Another legacy of his mother) scanned the crowds, searching for the familiar form of the middle child of the Charles Kavanagh branch of the family.

'He said he'd be here, Rob.' Said his brother as he started to cut up some onions for his father to grill, always a family favorite at cookouts.

'I know, Ben, but he's not usually late for these sorts of things.' Rob pointed out, checking to see that he was adding the right amount of seasoning to his famous Five-Alarm Chili Dip. It had been keeping chill in the cooler, but Rob always added just a pinch of cinnamon at the last minute to bring some sweetness to the dip that balanced out the copious amounts of jalapeños and chili peppers contained within.

'He's coming all the way from Sea-Tac, and you know how bad the traffic usually is going Northbound this time of day, but when you factor in that it's a holiday, well…' Charles Kavanagh trailed off, staring through the heat haze over the grill. A slight frown drew the corners of his mouth down as he watched two people making their way towards the gathering. Both wore clothes appropriate for a Pacific Northwest summer in the sun: sneakers, jeans, a t-shirt, and a light windbreaker, though in differing styles and colors, naturally. The tallest of the pair was carrying a small blue cooler, while the other bore a paper bag with what looked like paper plates and plastic cutlery poking out of the top, though it was hard to tell from this distance.

'Oh my Lord.' Charles breathed, his words pitched in the sort of hushed tones usually reserved for very large spaces and ancient church sanctuaries. 'Rob, go get your mother. I don't care what she's doing at the moment; ten-to-one your Grandma Jessie has started going on about her petunias, and I'm sure Izzy won't mind being dragged away. Go on, get.'

Rob shared a puzzled glance with Ben, but did as he was told, abandoning his Chili Dip on the table, but not before placing a piece of plastic wrap over the top to keep the bugs out. He threaded his way through the various members of his extended family until he found his mother and grandmother sitting on a large sand-dusted piece of driftwood. Sure enough, Grandma Jessie was rambling on about her large flower garden that graced her front yard, and Isabel Kavanagh had a definite glazed look about her. Grandma Jessie could do that to people, Rob reflected as he discreetly coughed to announce his presence. His mother looked relieved at the interruption and gave him a thankful smile.

'Hi, Mom. Hi, Grandma Jessie. Um, Dad needs you for something, Mom. He didn't say what, but I think it's important.' Rob said, biting his lip slightly. Isabel, or Izzy, as she liked to be called, stood up and brushed the sand off the seat of her pants.

'It was wonderful to see you again, Jessie. Maybe we can talk later?' she said politely before following Rob to where Ben and Charles were; only it wasn't just the two men anymore. Izzy's smile broadened as she took in the lithe form of her middle son, and she stepped forwards, causing Nate to hastily put down the cooler he was holding.

'Nate!' Izzy beamed, enfolding her son in a hug. 'It's so wonderful to see you.' She gently tugged on his ponytail as she released him, a fond tone to her voice. 'When are you going to get this cut?'

Nate's lips quirked in a half-smile, one that was well known to his immediate family. The issue with his hair had been going on ever since his senior year of high school, when he'd started growing it out in a minor fit of rebellion. Once he'd gotten into college he'd kept it long, and it had become a tradition of sorts for Izzy to lightly badger him about getting it cut. Everyone knew he probably would only get it cut short if his job demanded it, but so far no one had complained.

_Well_, Charles thought as he watched his wife and son gently tease each other, _at least he's not a chemist. The hair might pose a problem then_. A movement at the end of the table caught his eye, and he turned to see Nate's companion setting the paper bag she had been carrying down on the table. Light brown eyes met his grey-blue, and then looked down towards the table, focusing on the slightly nervous arranging of the plates and utensils that had been in the bag. The woman's wavy brown hair was held back in a ponytail, but a few locks had escaped and framed a pretty face that looked to have some direct Grecian ancestry to it. She was slender, but not overly so, and Charles could see why Nate was attracted to her.

'Nate, aren't you going to introduce us to your guest?' Charles prompted, and he noticed that the woman suddenly dropped the bundle of plastic forks she was holding. A soft curse in a foreign language issued from her mouth as she bent down to pick up the errant cutlery, and as she rose back to a standing position, Charles noted a slight blush coloring her light olive skin.

Nate blinked sharply and then looked embarrassed at his lapse of manners. 'Sorry,' he said sheepishly, then gently took the bundle of forks from the woman and set them safely down on the table before clearing his throat softly. 'Um, right. Mom, Dad, Ben, and Rob, this is Brooks Rice, my girlfriend.' The last two words made Izzy's smile widen, and Brooks smiled nervously in return, edging closer to Nate.

'Hi,' she said quietly, taking in the faces around her. Izzy held out her hand, and Brooks took it, her posture relaxing somewhat as Izzy's all-embracing personality swept over her.

'Nice to meet ya, Brooks. I'm Ben.' The eldest of the three sons said when Izzy had released Brooks' hand. 'Where'd you two meet?'

Nate winced slightly at the directness of his brother's questioning, but Brooks merely shrugged and replied with, 'At work. We were in the same department for a while, but then Nate got transferred to another one a few weeks later. We still saw each other during lunch and well…' She trailed off, a faint smile on her face. Of course, what she couldn't say was that while what she had said was mostly true, that fact was that the various mishaps and emergencies at the SGC had forced them together far more often than mere mundane meal-times. That was one of the things Brooks had worried about when Nate had told her about the annual Kavanagh Fourth of July picnic. Working at an above-Top Secret location meant that conversations were littered with half-truths and veiled lies, none of which Brooks was fond of. It couldn't be helped, of course, but still.

'So, you work at Cheyenne as well? What do you do, exactly?' Rob inquired, sitting down on the bench that was attached to the table and stirring his Chili Dip idly after taking the plastic wrap off.

'I specialize in Robotics and Electrical Engineering.' Brooks replied smoothly. 'I can't tell you much more than that, though. Sorry.'

Charles sighed slightly. 'I'm afraid we've gotten used to hearing that from our boys over the years. Both Rob and Ben have been also involved in some high-level stuff, and Izzy and I have learned just to accept it.' He said as he checked on the Italian sausages he was cooking.

Izzy cleared her throat and then said, 'Come on, Brooks. I'm sure we don't want to bother the men when they're cooking.' She started to pull Brooks towards the larger clump of people gathered nearby. 'I want you to meet some of the rest of the family. I think Rosie brought her famous Death by Chocolate pudding, which you absolutely _have _to try.' Brooks shot Nate a slightly worried look, but he merely shrugged and smiled fondly.

'Don't worry. No one will bite.' He said just before she was pulled out of earshot.

'Much.' Ben added, shaking his head. Nate turned to look at him, but Ben countered it with a raised eyebrow.

'You _know_ Elaine and some of the others are going to try and get as much information out of her as possible.' Ben pitched his voice a few octaves higher in imitation of one of their least-favorite cousins. '_So, how'd you and Nate meet? Where're you from? What do you do for a living?_' He shook his head, his voice dropping back into its normal register. 'You might want to go looking for her after a while.'

'Did you two _really _meet at work?' Rob asked, and Nate's hand shot out and gently thumped his younger brother across the top of the head. 'Hey!'

'You started it,' Charles observed, trying hard to keep a straight face. 'It's your own fault.'

'But _Dad_!' Rob said pleadingly. Charles just shook his head and returned to his cooking, deftly turning the sausages over on the grill as he listened to his three sons playfully bicker and poke fun at one another. Life was good. There was a breeze in the air, the sun was shining, and his family was whole again. Although, Charles mused in the privacy of his own thoughts, perhaps it might be added to soon. You never knew.


	4. Choices of the Moment

_Prompt # 086: Choices_

**Note: **Set after "Critical Mass"; Season 2, SGA.

_It is our choices... that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities._

-J. K. Rowling

Elizabeth sat alone at a table in the Mess Hall, idly picking at a late-night bowl of soup as she mulled over the day's events. Had she been wrong to allow Ronon even to think of torturing Kavanagh? God knew the bespectacled scientist had the social graces of a wet and wounded cat, but for a few moments during her second interrogation of him, he had seemed to let his guard down for a moment and let his inner feelings show through. There had been annoyance, to be sure, but an odd undercurrent of worry. Whether it was for himself or someone else, though, she wasn't sure.

Elizabeth sighed, shaking her head slightly. At least no one had been hurt. Kavanagh had fainted before Ronon had even touched him, which was somehow relieving to her. The encoded messages that Kavanagh had sent had said almost the same thing: _Get somewhere safe. Bomb on Atlantis. Be safe._

The last one to a Doctor Rice, however, had had an addendum: _Brooks- don't worry about me; I'll be_ _fine. They probably won't let me help out with the bomb problem, but somehow I suspect that's alright. It's a hell of a way to spend our seven-year anniversary (yes, I know we've already celebrated, but still), but when have we ever had a normal life together, right? The _Daedalus _is coming back to Atlantis soon; I don't know when I'll see you again, but after all this is over and done with, I think I'm going to need a good night's sleep and a drink, preferably both in your company. I love you. Stay safe._

_--_

'May I join you, Doctor Weir?'

Elizabeth looked up from her soup to see a woman dressed in a casual t-shirt and jeans standing at the other side of the table, her wavy brown hair falling loose around her face. She had a look of direct Greek ancestry to her, and was probably about the same height as Elizabeth, should the Expedition leader decide to stand up.

'Hmm? Oh, sure, go right ahead.' Elizabeth said finally, trying to place a name to the woman's face.

'Thanks.' The woman sat down, brushing a lock of hair out of her light brown eyes. 'It's been a hell of a day, hasn't it?' she said conversationally, stirring her own bowl of soup with a spoon to even out the ambient temperature of the liquid. Elizabeth blinked, slightly startled at the woman's turn-of-phrase. It was probably a coincidence that she had used almost the exact same words as Kavanagh had.

'Yes, it has been,' Elizabeth replied, taking a sip of her soup and trying to place the woman among the various faces of the Expedition's staff. She had a vague recollection of seeing her dining companion elbow-deep in the innards of MALPs or FREDs, but couldn't for the life of her remember her name.

'I know this sounds odd, but what's your name?' Elizabeth said finally after a few minutes of silence. 'I feel like I should know it, but…' she trailed off exasperatedly.

The other woman smiled slightly. 'It's Brooks. Doctor Brooks Rice. I'm the head of the Robotics Department. I maintain and repair the MALPs and FREDs when they need to be. I've been here since the beginning of the Expedition.'

'I _knew_ you looked familiar, it's just that-' Elizabeth broke off, memory rising up like a hippo breaking the surface of the Nile. 'Did you say "Rice"?'

Brooks carefully set down her spoon. 'Yes, I did,' she replied, a soft sigh to her voice. One hand vaguely rubbed at the back of her neck before dropping back to the table. 'And I suspect you have some questions regarding a certain message that was sent to me earlier today.'

'Yes, I do.' Elizabeth confirmed. Brooks nodded and then leaned back in her chair, eyes half-closed as she contemplated what to tell Elizabeth.

'Alright, go ahead, then. Ask your questions. I'll answer, but only if I get to ask you a few after you're finished.'

'Fair enough. How well do you know Doctor Kavanagh?'

Brooks smiled. 'Fairly well, I should think. We've been married for seven years. Today's our anniversary. Next question.'

Elizabeth was taken aback by this information. 'You're _married_? How? _Why_?'

'I'll count those as one question. Yes, we're married. As for the how, we met at the SGC, dated for about a year, and then got married. The why should be pretty easy to understand, I think.' Brooks shrugged. 'Anything else?'

Elizabeth was confused. 'You've seen how he acts around other people, especially authority figures. How do you justify that?'

Brooks frowned, her brow furrowing slightly. 'I don't. It's part of his nature- or at least, the one he shows to the world in general. It's my turn for questions.'

Elizabeth sighed. 'Fine. Ask away.'

'Do you know his first name?'

This non-sequitur threw Elizabeth, but she tried to regain her composure. 'It starts with a "P", doesn't it? Paul or Peter, right?'

Brooks shook her head. 'Wrong. It's Nathaniel. Nate to his friends and family, Nathan to those acquaintances outside of work.' She corrected. 'The SGC made an error when recording his name early on in his career. Second question. Have you made any effort to actually get to know him? The fact that you don't actually know his name doesn't go far in that field, but I'm willing to overlook that since it's a common mistake.'

'I can't say that I have,' Elizabeth began, choosing her words carefully. 'Though he hasn't made any effort to get to know me very well.'

'Fair enough,' Brooks said, nodding in acquiescence. 'Third question: What made you choose Nate as the prime suspect for the Trust agent? I understand he hasn't been the most sociable of people, but he hasn't actually done anything traitorous to deserve that level of suspicion.'

Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably in her seat, acutely aware of Brooks' level and steady gaze. It would've almost been better if Brooks had been waving her hands about and shouting, but this quiet and calm line of questioning was starting to unnerve Elizabeth. Even though she was an experienced diplomat and knew how to deal with people, this was just a bit too much, even for her. Luckily for her, though, Carson came into the Mess Hall at that moment, looking around for something- or someone. When he spotted Brooks and Elizabeth, he came over, a tired smile on his face.

'Hullo, Brooks, Elizabeth. What're you two up to?' he asked, flopping down in a nearby chair.

'Nothing much, Carson. Just chatting.' Brooks said, getting up. 'I've actually got to get going; it's past my bedtime, and I've got lots to do in the morning. Good night, Doctor Weir. Goodnight, Carson.'

''Night, Brooks. Sleep well.' Carson replied. He and Elizabeth watched her go, and Elizabeth sighed wearily when she was out of sight and earshot.

'Something wrong?' Carson asked.

'Just some uncomfortable thoughts, is all. I've been asking myself the whole day if I was right in authorizing Ronon to use any means necessary to retrieve the access codes from Kavanagh, and then I find out that..' Elizabeth trailed off, shaking her head. 'It doesn't matter. What's done is done.'

Carson regarded her for a moment, and then sighed. 'I take it you deciphered the messages Doctor Kavanagh sent, and to whom he sent them?' he asked.

'Yes. One to you, one to Corporal Mackenzie, and one to Doctor Rice.' Elizabeth said. 'The one that interested me the most was Doctor Rice's.'

Carson nodded, a half-smile curving his lips. 'I bet it did,' he said. 'Was that what you were talking about with Brooks? The message, I mean?'

'That, among other things.' She paused for a moment. 'Alright, I have to know. Did _you_ know that Doctor Kavanagh was married?'

'Yes, I did.'

Elizabeth blinked. 'You knew?'

'Of course. I'm their doctor. It's in their medical files under "Next-of-Kin". Besides, they're some of my friends. I think you'd be surprised to see what kind of a person Nate truly is, especially once you get past the prickly shell and really get to know him. He and Brooks are one of the happier couples I've seen, even with the hectic lives we lead.' Carson looked thoughtful. 'It's a wonder that this hasn't come up before, but they've always been rather private people.'

'I'd say.'

---

When Brooks returned to the quarters she shared with Nate, she found him standing on the small balcony that was attached to the "living room" portion of their family-sized quarters. She joined him there, looking up at the stars that were both still so alien and so familiar at the same time.

'How're you doing?' she asked finally, turning her head to look at him.

He sighed. 'Better than I was. I could still use a drink, but I think that can wait.'

'It's probably for the best that it does.' Brooks leaned against Nate, and he wrapped an arm around her. Brooks could feel the tension slowly draining out of her husband, drifting away on the sea-scented breeze.

'Yeah, you're probably right.' Nate said after a minute. 'Let's go inside. The _Daedalus _is leaving the day after tomorrow; Major Marks is going to be commanding the ship until Colonel Caldwell is back on his feet again.'

After they went inside and the door slid shut behind them, they started to get ready for bed. 'By the way, what took you so long? I thought you were just going to get something to eat and then come back.' Nate said as Brooks finished brushing her teeth.

'I ran into a few people.' Brooks replied after spitting out the toothpaste. 'It's nothing major. I chatted for a little bit and then came back here.'

'Oh. Well, that's alright, then.' Nate said, shrugging slightly before starting to brush his own teeth. When he'd finished with that, he joined Brooks in their bed, getting under the covers and sighing in relief. 'It's been a hell of a day.' He said, taking off his glasses and setting them on the bedside table.

'Yes, it has.' With that, Brooks turned out the light, and the quiet darkness filled the room.


	5. Hidden Depths

**Prompt:** 037: Sound  
**Timeline:** Mid- to late-Season 1 of "SGA"  
**Notes:** Apologies for the silly lyrics I wrote. Nothing belongs to me, save for the lyrics. Blah, blah, blah...

The atmosphere of excitement was palpable as most of the Atlantis staff and military contingent gathered in the 'Gate Room to watch the (hopefully) first-annual Talent Show begin. It had been suggested by Major Sheppard as a sort of morale-booster, given the recent events of the Genii infiltrating the base and nearly taking over Atlantis. Elizabeth had been hesitant about okaying it, but eventually gave in when Sheppard's puppy-dog eyes had gotten to a ridiculous level. ('Alright, fine. But absolutely _no_ burlesque. I was there at the SGC's talent show for that, and I don't want a repeat, thank you _very_ much.' She had said, and John had looked intrigued. Elizabeth had refused to elaborate much more than that, but she didn't think she'd be able to get the image of Doctor Robertson, a _very_ pale and slightly out-of-shape botanist, doing a burlesque dance out of her mind any time soon. ) Preparations had gotten underway almost immediately, much to Elizabeth's amusement, with sign-up sheets appearing in the Mess Hall almost overnight.

To many of the Expedition members, it was a great surprise when Doctor Kavanagh added his name to the ever-growing list towards the end of dinner a week before the show was to take place. He had declined to say what he would be doing, merely saying that he'd rather keep it private, and that they'd all have to wait until the show to find out what he'd be doing. Rodney had made a few guesses, ranging anywhere from poetry-reading to a recreation of the famous "Singin' in the Rain" dance number, complete with indoor rain.

'Though how he'd pull that off, I'm not sure,' Rodney mused as he idly prodded his near-beef casserole with his fork. 'I mean, he'd have to do some pretty heavy modifications to the floor for a drain, although I suppose we could always have him do his act outside, no matter what it is.'

'Rodney, play nice.' John said, quirking an eyebrow. 'Just because you don't like Kavanagh doesn't mean-'

'Just because _I_ don't like Kavanagh?' Rodney snorted, shaking his head. 'Please, the man's a walking accident waiting to happen. Anyways, he's pretty much the most disliked person on Atlantis. I doubt many people will pay attention to his act, whatever the hell it's going to be.'

'Oh, I don't know, Rodney,' Peter Grodin said, looking up from his own dinner with an enigmatic smile. 'You never know. He might wow us all.'

'Yeah, right. And I'm the Queen of England.'

Now that the fateful day was here, everyone was nearly bursting at the seams to see what their friends and teammates had thought up. For the first act, Ford and two other Marines did a surprisingly on-key version of "Fugue for Tinhorns" from _Guys and Dolls_, and received a rousing round of applause when they had finished the fast-paced number. They were followed by an improv troupe comprised of SGA-3 and a few members of the Geology department, and much laughter was to be had. The show continued on in great spirits, and then it was time for the last act. 'And now, ladies and gentlemen,' Peter Grodin said, thoroughly enjoying his role as emcee, 'I present to you our last act. Everyone give a warm welcome to Doctor Kavanagh!'

Kavanagh came out holding a six-string acoustic guitar, the red cedar wood that made up its soundboard well-cared for and free of dust or dirt. He sat on a stool that had been placed in the center of the "stage", took a deep breath, and then began to play, his long fingers deftly striking the nylon strings of his instrument. The melody was a simple one, although there were occasionally brief passages that sounded almost of Mediterranean origin. Twenty seconds after he began playing, Kavanagh startled everyone by opening his mouth and beginning to sing. His voice was a slightly rough baritone, but still quite pleasant to listen to. Elizabeth realized that, as Kavanagh sang, she had no idea what song he was singing, only that it seemed to come from somewhere deep within the pony-tailed scientist's soul.

'_Sweet servitude in silver chains_

_You hold my life in your hands and keep it safe._

_We'll keep on flyin' into the sky_

_Rising ever faster to the unknown heights._

_Keep me close and I'll always stay;_

_My heart beats gladly in a gilded cage._

_You hold the key that'll set me free_

_And it inspires me to be the man I know I should be._

_Keep it safe_

_Keep it close_

_Never let me go._'

Elizabeth looked around her and saw pretty much the same expression on the faces of the people around her: astonishment, mixed with outright surprise. Only a few people seemed to be comfortable with Kavanagh's singing; among them were Carson, Peter, and a woman Elizabeth had seen around but never really talked to. 'What the hell is he singing?' Rodney muttered, sounding bemused. 'And where did he get the guitar?'

'Shut up, I'm trying to listen.' John hissed.

'_I am yours_

_And you are mine._

_We'll stay together_

'_Till the end of time._

_You've stolen my heart_

_But I don't care._

_For as long as you're there,_

_All the love in the world _

_Is ours to share._

_Keep it safe_

_Keep it close_

_Never let me go._'

'Seriously, what the-' Rodney tried to say once more, but John clapped a hand over his mouth before he could say much more than that. Elizabeth tried to hide a smile, and turned her attention back to Kavanagh.

'_And though our love is a quiet affair,_

_I want you to know_

_That no matter how far apart we are_

_I promise you that your love will be_

_Always and forever_

_With me._

_Keep it safe _

_Keep it close_

_Never let me go._'

As the last few chords died away, Kavanagh got up from the stool, nodded briskly at the crowd, and then left the room, his long strides taking him out of sight in under a minute. Murmurs rose the second Kavanagh had vanished from view as the members of the audience recovered from their mildly stunned state and began talking amongst themselves. 'That was… unexpected.' John said, brow furrowed slightly. 'I wonder who he was talking about.'

'If anyone, you mean.' Rodney pointed out. 'Seriously, I doubt he's actually involved with someone. Can you imagine any sane person actually falling in love with _Kavanagh_?'

'Doctor Kavanagh may have hidden depths.' Teyla commented. 'He certainly showed us one tonight.'

'Yes, he did.' Elizabeth mused as the crowd began to disperse. 'I never knew he sang or played the guitar.'

'There're a lot of things we don't know about Kavanagh, and I'm sure I'm not alone in thinking that I probably don't want to know all about them.' Rodney said, getting up from his chair. 'I'm hungry; does anyone else want dessert?'

'I _could_ go for some pie.'

'That sounds wonderful.'

'Pie it is, then.'

As they made their way to the Mess Hall, with the buzz of conversation flowing around them, Elizabeth had to wonder just what other hidden depths there were to the always surprising Doctor Kavanagh.


	6. And I Long to Smell the Sea

**Prompt:** 051: Water  
**Timeline:** Early Season 3

He misses the sound of the ocean as he tries to drift off to sleep. The hum of the _Daedalus_' engines don't have quite the same effect, and during the first few weeks of travelling between galaxies he finds that he can only get to sleep when he listens to a recording of one of Earth's oceans pounding against a beach. The rest garnered by this stop-gap measure only ensures that he gets just enough energy to make it through the day and little else. He also misses –oh God, how he _misses_- the feel of a warm body lying next to him on the bed, the comforting weight of his beloved wife a calming and reliable presence throughout the night. His nightmares have returned; he often wakes to find his sheets soaked with sweat from the horrendously vivid images produced by his not-so-idle mind.

The horrifying scenes of his loved ones being fed on by Wraith as he's forced to watch blur with those of Atlantis burning, her glory being eradicated by hungry flames. It's only the realization that he's safe in his bed when he jolts awake, breathing rapid and shallow, that calms his frayed nerves. He runs a shaking hand through his hair, staring unseeing at the wall across from his bed. This most recent nightmare- _Running and calling through the empty and echoing halls of Atlantis, finding only the withered remains of the dead wherever he looks_- is one of the worst in recent memory. It takes a while for his breathing to slow to somewhere approaching normal, though the after-effects of the adrenaline coursing through his blood keeps the shivers going for a few seconds longer before slowly fading away.

Nate glances over at the alarm clock and sighs softly. Four in the morning. Well, at least it's better than the last few days; he's routinely been awakened at two or even earlier by the nightmare landscapes, which edges him even closer towards true irritability than normal. He pushes the blankets back and gets up, the thin carpet that meets his feet barely holding back the seemingly always-present chill radiated by the metal floors of the _Daedalus_. The flickering blue-purple of hyperspace seeps through the cracks around the makeshift curtain –comprised of a bed-sheet held up with magnets- reaffirming the fact that he truly is not in recognizable space anymore. It doesn't bother him as much as it used to- at least, not since he put the curtain up- but it's still mildly disconcerting.

Since he's up, and it's doubtful that he'll be able to get back to sleep, Nate gets dressed in his work uniform and heads down to the Mess, thinking that perhaps some food would help soothe his nerves. The deep _rhuum-rhuum _of the engines resonate almost subconsciously as he walks the near-empty halls, sounding like the far-off heartbeat of a slumbering giant. The ship's scheduled to arrive at Atlantis at 1900 AST, and there's supposed to be a week-long layover while Hermiod does some very complicated recalibrations to the hyperdrive. It's both a blessing and a curse in that while the _Daedalus_' crew will get some much-needed down time, there's not much for them to do to help the Atlantis staff, since most of the crew have more than enough counterparts among the members of the Expedition.

The food helps some, but not much, so Nate debates between going back to his quarters and going to his post. Eventually, his post wins out, so he takes over for Captain Latimer and settles into his daily routine, anxiously awaiting the time when the _Daedalus_ will drop out of hyperspace and arrive at Lantea. Time passes, though he would give anything to make it go quicker, and the announcement that they're dropping out of hyperspace comes just as Nate's finishing his daily shower. He grins as he dries off his hair, quickly changing into a clean uniform and throwing enough changes of clothes and uniforms into a duffle bag to last him the week. When he finishes with that and has his luggage all ready to go, he makes his way to the cargo bay where most of the other off-duty crewmembers are waiting, most with their own luggage sitting by their feet as they wait for the _Daedalus_ to land.

Once the confirmation of their landing sounds out over the intercoms, Nate helps get the few crates that hold items either too volatile or fragile to beam down to the storerooms of Atlantis out onto the pier before taking his leave. He pauses at a secluded balcony, letting the fresh sea air flow over him, taking the cares of the day with it as it blows past. It's one of the most refreshing things he's experienced in a while, and it soothes his soul just that much more. He's always loved the sea; it's been a constant presence in his life from the time of his birth onwards. His hometown in Western Washington has a small public beach that he and his brothers used to go to when they still lived at home, and though it's been a few years since he's been back there, Nate knows that it'll always be a part of him.

After a few minutes of contemplation, he picks up his duffle bag and resumes his trek into the inner hallways of Atlantis, the subconscious hum and chime of the Ancient city's technology singing in the back of his mind. He arrives at his and Brooks' quarters around ten minutes later, and runs his hand over the door crystals. They're still keyed to him, so the door slides open and he enters the room, the familiar surroundings proving to be a calming tonic. All that's missing is the presence of his wife, and that's soon remedied by Brooks' arrival some five minutes after he calls her on the radio to tell her he's home. Their reunion is a joyful one, as it always seems to be after these long intervals without one another, and they quickly settle into their not-so-long-ago routines with very little trouble.

Yes, it may only last for a short time, but Nate knows that the sea –and the woman- he misses so much during the long days he's away will sink even further into the very bones of his existence, and never let him go. He's perfectly fine with that. And if his nightmares are forced back to the hellish planes from which they sprang, he won't say anything. They'll just be washed away on the renewing sea breeze, and all will be well.

He wouldn't have it any other way.


	7. On The Way Home

**Prompt: 090- Home**

"_You're not the only one who wants to go home." –Doctor Kavanagh, "Midway"_

~_Atlantis, New Lantea, 03:00 hours post-_Midway_ takeover~_

She paced nervously across the floor of her lab- _thirteen strides north, thirty east, fifteen and a half south (detour around the workbench), twenty-three west; repeat as needed_- anxiously awaiting further news of the _Midway_ station. The report of lost communications had come to her three hours ago, and she'd been pacing ever since. Her assistants watched her with worried looks on their faces. Brooks knew that any news would probably take at least a few hours (if all went well with the recon team, that was); so, realistically, she shouldn't be wasting her energy in fruitless worrying. She couldn't help it, though, and walked with her hands locked anxiously behind her back.

Eventually, one of her assistants, Eli, quietly summoned Doctor Keller to the lab, stepping briefly out of the room so as not to be overheard. Once the young CMO arrived, the Georgian electronics engineer quickly pulled her aside for a short chat.

'She's been like this ever since the announcement about _Midway_.' He said, glancing furtively at Brooks. 'Quite frankly, Moraine and I are starting to get worried. I mean, I want to know what happened as much as anybody else on Atlantis, but there's no reason for her to be acting like this, right?'

Jennifer's brow furrowed momentarily, and then realization dawned. _Oh God,_ she thought, trying to keep her expression as neutral as possible. _Her husband was supposed to be on _Midway_, wasn't he? _

'Don't worry about it,' she told Eli. 'I'll talk to her. You two go ahead and take a break; it's almost dinnertime, after all.'

Once Moraine and Eli had left, Jennifer shut the lab door behind her and carefully approached Brooks, not wanting to startle her any more than necessary.

'Brooks? How are you doing?' Jennifer asked cautiously, reaching out and putting a hand on Brooks' shoulder to stop the other woman from pacing. Brooks halted in her steps, and Jennifer had only a moment's warning before Brooks sank to the floor, her body trembling as she lost control and started crying. Jennifer knelt down beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders in an effort to provide support.

_God, I hope they get back soon._ She thought as she tried to soothe the distraught woman next to her. _For everyone's sake._

_~Puddle Jumper, Somewhere in the Galactic Void, 24:00 hours post-_Midway _destruction~_

'- so he blows it up, and then the movie just ends. Ends! Now tell me, is that a downer or what?'

Nate sighed as he was awoken from a fitful slumber in the small corner of the Jumper he had claimed as his own, wrapping an emergency blanket around him in an effort to stay asleep. Bill was going on about some movie Nate'd never heard of, and from the sound of it, neither had the Marine who was being talked at. After about five more minutes of Bill's monologue, Nate gave up trying to stay asleep and sat up, automatically reaching for his glasses. From the looks of it, Sheppard had barricaded himself in the cockpit, leaving McKay, Bill, the two Marines, and Nate in the back of the jumper. That wasn't exactly fair, but Nate didn't want McKay to bitch too much, especially not right after he'd woken up.

After availing himself of the use of the chemical toilet that had been set up behind a makeshift curtain comprised of two emergency blankets and some duct tape that held it all together (and up), Nate settled back in his corner, making himself as comfortable as he could given the circumstances. Bill eventually wound down after a while, seeming to be exhausted on the topic of esoteric movies for the moment.

'I'm hungry.' Bill announced suddenly, breaking the short-lived silence.

'Oh, God.' McKay muttered, dragging a hand over his face. 'Eat something, then.'

'Like what? We're saving the MREs for normal mealtimes, and the only flavors of power bar we've got are that funky-tasting banana and wild berry.' Bill countered, raising an eyebrow.

McKay snorted exasperatedly. 'Either eat it or wait, Lee. One of the two.'

'But we don't-'

Nate sighed and then got to his feet, moving to a storage compartment near the rear hatch. He dug around in the confined space before pulling out a storage case, ignoring McKay's demands to know what he was doing.

'Here,' Nate said after opening the case and withdrawing a small oblong object wrapped tightly in plastic. He threw it to Bill, who examined it with interest.

'"Caveman Bar"' he read, scanning the label. 'Pecan Oat Cinnamon flavor. Wow, thanks.'

'No problem, Bill.' Nate said, grabbing a bar of the Almond Coconut variety and sitting back down, setting the case near him. He paused before unwrapping his snack and then nudged the case towards the others with his foot. 'You're welcome to have one if you want. Just go easy on them; there're only ten left.'

'What are they?' McKay asked suspiciously while the two Marines got up and investigated the contents of the case for themselves before choosing their own snacks.

'It's food.'

'Well, _obviously_. What sort of food?'

'It's like a granola bar, except a whole hell of a lot healthier.' Nate told him. 'As I said, you can have one if you want. They don't have citrus in them, if that's what you're worried about, McKay.'

'No, just you poisoning me, Kavanagh.' McKay snapped, but took one of the Sea Salt and Peanut variety and returned back to his seat. Nate watched him scrutinize the list of ingredients carefully, but since there were only three ingredients, and none of them had anything to do with citrus of any kind, McKay tore open the wrapper and took a bite of his food. As the others ate, Nate closed the case and put it under one of the seats nearest to him.

The Caveman Bars had been a treat his younger brother, Rob, had sent him the last time Nate had been on Earth. The snacks were made near his hometown, so there was an extra special aspect to them. Ben, his older brother, was usually the one to send them, but he'd been busy welcoming his second child into the world, so Rob had been the one to send them this time. Nate had put the Bars in the Jumper so that, in case of an emergency (and the Station blowing up _definitely_ counted as one), he'd be able to have a little piece of home with him.

Nate unwrapped his snack and bit into it, relishing the flavor before leaning against the gently curving wall of the Jumper. Home. God, what was home these days? Deep in his heart he knew; hell, he'd known all along, but figured that, should he tell anyone, they'd think it sappy and overly mushy. If he was truthful, he would've said that home was wherever Brooks was. That was the plain and simple truth.

~_Atlantis, New Lantea, 2 weeks, 4 days, and 13 hours since the _Midway _explosion~_

Brooks had nearly fallen asleep on the spare cot she kept in her lab when the announcement rang out over the intercom that the _Daedalus _had called ahead to say that they had been successful in their mission to find out what had happened to the _Midway_ Station. She sat up, albeit a bit too quickly. Once she waited for the room to stop spinning around her, she got to her feet, pausing only momentarily to let the world settle back into its proper foundations before hurrying out of the room, white lab coat flapping slightly as she skidded around a corner and to the nearest transporter. One mildly vertigo-inducing transporter ride later, Brooks found herself near the 'Gate control room, where she dodged a few errant Marines and techs to finally come to rest near Chuck's console.

'Ah, Chuck. Has the _Daedalus _landed yet?' she asked, forcing herself to keep her hands in her pockets and not to start wringing them in her anxiety.

'Not yet, Ma'am.' Chuck replied without looking up. 'Colonel Caldwell said he'd be beaming down Colonel Sheppard and the others before the ship landed.'

'How-' Brooks paused, trying to get ahold of herself before she lost it in front of the entire 'Gate room staff. 'How long until the _Daedalus _gets in range?'

'About ten minutes.' Here Chuck looked up, a note of concern in his voice. 'Are you feeling alright?'

Brooks gave him a terse smile. 'Fantastic. Thank you.' With that, she bustled off, taking up a post at one of the balconies near the closest staircase. She wanted to be ready when Nate beamed down. It never occurred to her that he wouldn't.

'We're at Atlantis. Prepare to beam down.' The _Daedalus _tech on duty said, adjusting a few settings here and there before beaming the five survivors of _Midway_ and Ronon into the Atlantis 'Gate Room. After the initial brilliant flash of white light, Nate found himself standing in the center of the 'Gate Room, the familiar hum and chime of Ancient technology settling over him like a well-worn sweater.

'Ronon, Colonel Sheppard, Doctor McKay. Welcome home.' Came Colonel Carter's voice from the 'Gate ops center. Nate smiled wryly; of _course_ only the Favorite Three would be welcomed. He sighed and bent down to pick up his duffel bag, but before he could do so, a cry made him stop short.

'_Nate_!'

He looked up to see Brooks racing down the stairs, the lab coat that she was wearing streaming out behind her, along with her hair, which had come loose from its customary ponytail. Nate only had a few seconds to brace himself before Brooks ran full-tilt into him, her arms wrapping tightly around his torso. He steadied them both before returning her hug, eyes sliding shut as he reveled in the feeling of holding his wife close to him. Neither cared that they had an audience, nor that there were murmurs coming from those watching.

Up on the balcony, Chuck made a soft noise of surprise as he watched the scene unfolding below. 'I didn't know Doctor Kavanagh had a sister.' He said, and Sam made a soft snorting noise.

'He doesn't,' she said, shaking her head. 'At least, not that I know of.'

'Then who-?' Chuck began, and then his eyes widened. 'Pardon me for saying this, ma'am, but that's impossible. Doctor Kavanagh _can't_ be married. I mean, we'd know about it, right?'

'Not if they didn't want you to, Sergeant.' Radek said as he joined them, only briefly glancing down at Nate and Brooks, who were now making their way towards one of the nearest transporters, hands firmly held together.

'How long have they been married, Colonel?' Chuck asked, intrigued.

Sam frowned. 'If I remember right, somewhere around nine years or so. They got married in the third year of the 'Gate program.'

'Hmm. It's a wonder no-one's said anything about it.' Chuck mused as the remaining three returned Expedition members joined them.

'As I said, not really. Not many people knew before now.' Radek said before heading off to update Rodney on what had happened during the time he had been gone.

'You should've learned by now that the 'Gate program- and Atlantis- is full of surprises.' Sam told Chuck, and then left the tech to his duties.

'I'll remember that, ma'am. I'll remember that.'

**A/N:**Caveman Bars really do exist. They're made in a city called Edmonds, Washington, which is about a fifteen-minute drive from my house. Look them up online.


	8. Reasons of the Heart

**Timeline:** Early Season 2 of _SG-1_. Set a few weeks before _Details in the Fabric  
_**Prompt:** #047: Heart

Brooks wasn't sure how she managed to fall in love with him. For the three months that she'd worked with him before he'd been transferred to another department, he'd constantly proven to be callous and rude towards others, including those who held power over whether or not he continued to work at the SGC. So how had he managed to dig a niche into her heart? She didn't usually go for guys like that; especially guys with ponytails and bad attitudes.

Somehow, though, he'd gotten past her defenses and integrated himself into her daily routines. She would see him at lunch or in the hallways, and when he caught sight of her, he would nod or give some indication that he recognized her. It was odd, she was sure, since he didn't seem to do that with anyone else. Of course, thinking about this at a time when she was trapped off-world in a small cell with him and with two other people nearby probably wasn't the best idea.

She and Kavanagh were tied back-to-back, as were Rosland and Brauer. They had been on a scientific mission to P3V-294 where the locals had some intriguing devices that the contact team had thought might be of Ancient design. Almost as soon as they had stepped through the 'Gate, the four scientists and SG-19 had been captured by a large group of men dressed in masks and cloaks. The Marines of SG-19 had attempted to fight back, but the sheer numbers of the group attacking them had overwhelmed them. Brooks hadn't seen hide nor hair of the Marines since then.

Rosland and Brauer were sitting in a cell across from Brooks and Kavanagh; Brauer was sleeping with her head slumped against her chest, and Rosland was idly trying to untie himself. He wasn't making much progress with the knots that Brooks could see, but given the fact that her sightline was limited by position she was in, she couldn't see how far he had gotten. Brooks could feel Peter- _Kavanagh_, She corrected herself- breathing lightly, and tried to keep as professional as she could when she could feel his body heat against her back. It was oddly comforting, knowing that he was there, but Brooks tried to shove that thought into the dark corner of her mind where she kept all the others she deemed too unprofessional about her co-workers.

_Besides,_ she thought with a slight sigh, _I doubt he'd be interested in dating me. He's never seemed the least bit interested, save for when I've done something clever. When he smiles like that-_ She sighed and shook her head, rousing Kavanagh from a light slumber.

'Hnuh? You okay, Doctor Rice?'

Damn. She hadn't meant to wake him, and she _really_ didn't want him to know she had been thinking about him.

'I'm fine, Peter.' She replied, forcing a smile into her voice. 'And I've told you before, you can call me Brooks.'

Kavanagh shifted, and Brooks could feel his hair brush her shoulders. 'I- Um, sorry. I'm kind of nervous, what with being tied up and all.' He said. 'This is one of my first times off-world, you know.'

'Same here.' Brooks gave a short laugh. 'This wasn't how I pictured it.'

'I know what you mean,' Kavanagh muttered, shaking his head. 'I was kind of hoping to avoid this sort of situation.' He sighed, and then continued on. 'If you want to try to go to sleep, I'll keep watch.'

'That's very kind of you,' Brooks said, smiling slightly. 'I might take you up on that.' She tried to relax, focusing on the soft sounds of Kavanagh's breathing. It was soothing, as was the warmth coming from her fellow scientist. Sleep slowly took hold and she rested her head awkwardly against his shoulder, feeling somehow safe even though their situation was exactly the opposite.

Nate felt Brooks' body relax, and gave a gentle sigh of relief. She'd been up for over thirty-six hours, the length of time they'd been on the planet, as well as at the SGC. They'd left Earth at 0700 MST and had arrived at around 1400 local time. Judging by the small sliver of moonlight he could see through a high window, it was some time after sunset on the third day they'd been on the planet. He'd managed to cat-nap a bit, but had been woken by her movements. Now that she was asleep, he found that he could relax a bit. Brooks' breathing was even and regular, and somehow reassuring. It meant that she trusted him enough to fall asleep near him- something none of his girlfriends had ever done, even if all they had been doing was sitting on the couch and watching a movie.

Trust. He thought about that for a moment, a frown forming when the thought hit him that while Brooks trusted him, he hadn't been so free with his own trust. Hell, he hadn't even told her his real name, preferring to let her continue to think that Peter was his true first name. He wasn't sure why; Brooks was one of the few people he'd come to actually respect and think of as a friend since the time he'd arrived at the SGC. They had similar tastes in books and music- though he _still_ couldn't figure out her odd likings for trashy romance novels and bouncy Japanese pop bands- and they were both part of the small chapter of the SCA within the SGC called the Stronghold of _Astria Porta_, giving them yet another thing to talk about. It was good, but Nate still winced inwardly whenever he heard her call him Peter. It wasn't right, and he decided right then that, if and when they ever got out of the cell, he'd tell her his real name. She deserved the truth.

--

'Brooks, wait up!'

Brooks turned to see Kavanagh coming towards her, his ponytail bouncing slightly as he hurried along the hallway. It'd been four days since their return from P3V-294, and she'd barely seen him since. She paused outside of her lab, readjusting the box she was carrying so that it rested on her left hip. Kavanagh came to a halt, a half-smile quirking his mouth.

'Can I help you, Peter?' she asked, and noticed that he flinched slightly at the name.

'Actually, I came to talk to you about something.' He said, rubbing the back of his neck. 'Could we step inside?'

'Sure.' Brooks led the way into the lab, setting the box down on a nearby counter. She took a seat in her rolling chair and looked up at him. 'Take a seat, Peter. You look like you're about to fall over.'

Kavanagh sat down, running a hand over his hair before talking. 'Okay. Um, I may have not been totally truthful with you when we first met.'

'Oh?'

'Yeah. So, you know how I told you my name is Peter?'

'Yes…' Brooks drew out the single syllable of the word, leaning back in her chair. She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest as she did so.

'I lied. Um, it's actually Nate. Well, my full name's Nathaniel, but I prefer Nate.'

He waited for her to say something, biting his lip nervously. Brooks regarded him coolly, her expression inscrutable. Nate twisted the hem of his shirt in his hands, and then got up. 'I'm sorry. I shouldn't have- I've got to go.' He turned to leave, and made it to the door before Brooks said something.

'Why?'

He paused, one hand coming to rest on the doorjamb. 'It's what the SGC recorded. Peter is my middle name.' Nate ran a hand over his face and then turned around, leaning against the doorjamb. 'There was a snafu with the paperwork, and they switched my first and middle names around.'

'And you didn't tell me your real name because-?'

'I- well, I don't know, really. I guess I didn't know what to say. I usually only tell people my actual name if I trust them.'

'And you trust me now?' Brooks leaned forwards, a slight smile on her face.

'Well, after P3V-294, you showed that _you_ could trust _me_, and I thought that it was high time I told you the truth.' Nate told her.

'I showed that I could trust you? How do you mean?' Brooks looked confused. 'I don't remember anything happening.'

Nate smiled, ducking his head briefly before looking up at her. 'You fell asleep. You trusted me enough to let your defenses down around me. Not many people have done that.'

'Ah.' Brooks' cheeks were tinged with pink as she blushed slightly. 'I was too tired to stay awake.'

'I figured.'

Brooks glanced at a notepad laying nearby on the counter before turning her gaze back to Nate. 'Thank you for telling me.'

'You're welcome. I actually feel better for telling you.' Nate said, a relieved expression crossing his face.

'I'm glad. Now get back to work, you idiotic man.' These last words weren't delivered with any true venom, but Nate nodded anyways. He left the robotics lab, a slight smile on his face and a small spring in his step. God, he felt _so_ much better.

Brooks watched him go, a fond smile on her face. She hadn't realized that falling asleep in a dank, cold cell off-world would've brought her closer to Nate, but it had. Odd, that. The world certainly worked in odd ways.


	9. Run Silent, Run Deep

**Prompt: 085**: She

**Timeline:** Season 1 of _Atlantis_

She knows that he isn't popular.

She doesn't care.

She knows he's (mostly) bad with people, horrible with (some) authority figures, and at times (almost always) socially awkward.

She _also_ knows that he's one of the most loving (caring) (loyal) (faithful) (brilliant) people she's ever had the chance (honor) (privilege) to know.

The mask he presents to the world is just that- a façade built to shield him (and others) from hurt.

She's seen both faces -with and without the mask (true/fake)- and knows they're as much a part of him as she is.

When they're in the privacy (comfort) of their home (Atlantis, always Atlantis), he relaxes, letting his true self shine through, as he (only) does with people he trusts (family; by blood, marriage, or deep, deep friendship).

She relishes (savors) these rare moments with him, as their schedules don't mesh as often as they'd like.

Often (far too much), they won't see one another unless in passing (one home, one not; sightings in halls), but sometimes they're able to eat a meal together, soaking in the precious (hoarded) time that they can spend in one another's presence.

Theirs is a quiet love, but like the old saying, it runs deep (strong).

If she were to tell someone who he is, she knows most (almost all) would think her a liar or crazy.

_She doesn't care._

He's hers, and she's his (a fact kept jealously close to her heart), and she often thinks that is what's been keeping them sane in these trying times, when they're far from Earth (whole galaxies) with no way home (second home, now. Atlantis reigns supreme).

So when asked what she knows best, she'll smile her secret smile and then answer with a different (false) reply, rather than the true (right) one she keeps close.

It's a (half-open) secret she's willing to die for, and she knows he'd do the same.

That's what love is.


	10. All Hallow's Eve

**Notes:** Set between _The Return (Part One)_ and _The Return (Part Two)_

**Prompt:** 064: Fall

Ah, Hallowe'en. The night for dressing up, pretending to be someone you're not, and eating copious amounts of sugar-laden candy. Preston and Elaine Tobin always enjoyed handing out sweets to the children of their neighborhood, as well as seeing what creative costumes would be worn each year.

The sound of laughter outside the door gave Preston and Elaine enough prior warning to gather up the candy bowl and make it to the front door before the doorbell rang. Elaine opened the door, a smile forming on her face as she saw the small crowd of kids gathered on the front porch. A tall man was escorting them, a mildly overwhelmed look on his face. Standing at the bottom of the short flight of steps was a woman; presumably she was also one of the chaperones for the night. Both adults were in costume as well, though they weren't as lavish as the kids'. The man wore khaki pants and a blue t-shirt while the woman wore a long white dress.

'Trick or treat!' the kids chorused, holding up their bags.

'What lovely costumes you all have,' Elaine told them as she handed out the bite-sized pieces of candy she and Preston had bought earlier that day. 'Are you having fun?'

'Yep!' said one boy who was dressed as Superman. 'Uncle Nate an' Aunt Brooks are helping us get candy this year.'

'Really? How nice.' Elaine gave her fellow adults an understanding smile. Nate returned it, though it was a rather overwhelmed smile.

'First year on patrol?' Preston asked, coming up to stand near his wife as she finished up handing out the candy to the four youngsters.

'Yes,' Brooks said. 'We're not usually around for this time of year; our jobs pretty much keep us away for holidays. This year, though, well...' She trailed off and then smiled bittersweetly before turning to the children. 'All right, kids, time to say thank you. We've got plenty more houses to visit.'

The four children said their thank-yous and goodbyes and then ran off, Nate hurrying after them. Brooks laughed and followed her husband, niece, and nephews. Preston and Elaine watched them go and then shut the door behind them.

'They seemed like a nice couple,' Preston noted.

'Yes, they did, though a bit lost,' Elaine said. 'I think something big must've happened recently.'

'Well, let's hope something good happens soon for them.'

'Hopefully.'


End file.
